"No. I think I'll keep it." "What do you want to do with it?" asked Tidman angrily. Forge rose and looked stern, "I want to keep it from Lo-Keong," he said savagely, "there's some secret connected with that fan. I can't understand what the secret is or what the fan has to do with it: but it means life and death to this Mandarin. He'd give ten thousand,--twenty thousand to get that fan back. But he shan't." "Oh," groaned the Major, "why did I give it to you. To think that such a lot of money should go begging. If I had only known what the fan was worth." "You knew nothing about it save as a curiosity." "How do you know," demanded the Major. Forge who had turned towards the cabinet wheeled round and looked more like a hawk than ever as he pounced on the stout man. "What do _you_ know?" and he clawed Tidman's plump shoulders. "Let me go confound you," blustered the Major, "what do you mean by assaulting a gentleman--" "A gentleman." Forge suddenly released the Major and laughed softly, "does Benjamin Tidman, old Farmer Tidman's son call himself so. Why I remember you--" "Yes I know you do, and so does that infernal Pewsey cat." Forge suddenly became attentive. "Miss Pewsey if you please. She is my friend. I may--" Forge halted and swallowed something. "I may even marry her some day." "What," shouted Tidman backing to the wall, "that old--old--" "Gently my good Benjamin, gently." "But--but you're not a marrying man." "We never know what we are till we die," said Forge turning again towards the black cabinet, "but you needn't mention what I have said. If you do," Forge snarled like an angry cat and shot one glance from his gray eyes that made Tidman shiver: then he resumed his gentle tone. "About this fan. I'll make a bargain with you." "What's that?" asked the Major avariciously. "I'll show you the fan, and if you can guess it's secret, I'll let you give it to this Tung-yu or Hwei or Kan-su or whatever he likes to call himself." "But you don't want Lo-Keong to have the fan," said the Major doubtfully. Forge opened the cabinet slowly. "So long as I learn the secret he can have the fan. I want to ruin him. He's a devil and--ah--" he started back. "The fan--the fan--" "What is it?" asked Tidman, craning over Forge's shoulder at an empty drawer, "where is the fan?" "Lost," cried Forge furiously, and looked like a dangerous grey rat. "Five thousand pounds gone," moaned the Major. "My life you fool--my life," cried the doctor, "it is at stake." CHAPTER III MISS WHARF AT HOME